


Epiphanies from 1am

by orphan_account



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-08-17 05:40:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 16,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8132465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: So, we know at some point the allied kingdoms against Erawan have to join forces. Within Oakwald Forest, not too far from the borders of Morath, lies a war camp of which the armies of Terrasen, Adarlan, Eyllwe, the Wastes, and any other faction out for Valg blood plots their downfall. Once the armies of Terrasen arrive, along with their queen, the conflict begins.





	1. Everything is Blue ~ Prequel

**Author's Note:**

> So as the name suggests, this little fic hit me during the early hours of the morning and has not left me since. I was previously writing this one my Tumblr but I realised now that I'm putting it up on here, that it is in need of an extra chapter. So take this one as a prequel to every thing else.

“ _ JEALOUS!?  _ Don’t tell me that you’re  _ jealous _ , Rowan Whitethorn!”

 

The Fae warrior quickly had to duck away to avoid the torrent of daggers being thrown his way. He had seen his queen rage and curse many times before, but this was a different sort of anger.

 

In the heated air of the training grounds, it was hard not to draw attention to themselves as many soldiers flocked to their position. Some snickered and joked with their mates but those who served the Queen of Terrasen new well enough to keep their mouths shut.

 

“Okay fine!” Rowan roared back. “I’m jealous! I’m jealous that you’re spending more time frolicking around with the King of Adarlan and his pathetic court than with me, your  _ lover!”  _ He took a breath, collecting himself. Aelin still stood opposite, dagger in hand and a fierce expression distorting her features. Putting a hand to his heart, he continued, pleading, “Aelin, do you have any idea how much it hurts me that we haven’t had sex in  _ weeks _ ?”

 

The crowd all sucked in a breath.

 

Wrong thing to say.

 

Her next throw narrowly missed his cheek,  shearing a few strands of hair from his head. “Fuck you, Rowan. Don’t even  _ think _ about returning to my tent tonight,” Aelin whipped around and made to stomp away but her ex-lover’s hand gripping her arm made her stop.

 

“ _ Let go of me, _ ” she seethed, faces close enough to share breath as she scolded him with her gaze.

 

“Listen,” he growled in reply, but he sighed and loosened his grip a little. Pressing his forehead against hers, he stared at her honestly. “I knew it would happen eventually,” he whispered sadly, painfully aware of the eyes all around them, “but I didn’t think it would be so soon.”

 

“What…” she said a little breathlessly, that fire of hers coming down to an ember.

 

“Your mate,” he replied simply, the fingers gripping her arm falling down to link with hers. “From the beginning, I knew we weren’t mates. But I wanted to hold onto you for as long as I could…” he took a shaking breath.

 

“We’re not…?” she asked, a sudden sadness melting her features, all that temper from a few minutes ago gone in a matter of seconds.

 

“No, he’s here, in this very camp.”

 

“What? Where?” Her head itched to look around but she didn’t want what he was saying to be a possibility.

He huffed a sad laugh. “This sounds cliche but…” his eyes darted behind her, “look with your heart.”

 

Reluctantly, Aelin delved deep inside of herself and found a whisper of a thread glowing faintly in the darkness. She tugged on it slightly and felt a strong breeze - magic - answering her call. Sheer undiluted power lay at the other end of that thread. Fire, ice, wind - it called to her with promises of starlight and sunshine.

 

She gasped.

 

Dorian.

 

“No,” she whispered finally. “NO!” she then cried, pushing herself away from Rowan. “You can’t be serious!” Hot tears began to blur her vision. “Thi-This is just some dumb lie to get me to fuck you again. Well, I give in!” Throwing her arms either side of her, she forced her eyes to stay on Rowan, would not let them betray her and look behind her. At...her mate. “I love you, Rowan. Please don’t let it end like this.”

 

Oh, how quickly the tables had turned. Rowan stared at his ex-lover with sadness and relief. “Don’t say things like that, Aelin,” he said softly. “You have a bright future ahead of you, I’m just not in it in that way.”

 

In a hot flash on anger, Aelin grabbed the last dagger from her belt and threw it, embedding it in the mushy ground between his feet. With that, she stormed away, pushing her way through the crowd as she left the training grounds.

 

But a hand closed itself around her arm; not gripping like Rowan’s but...gentler however insistent it was.

 

She spun around to see the sapphire eyes of the King of Adarlan, his brows drawn in concern. She didn’t know it it was the grief talking, or that  _ thing  _ inside of her but she couldn’t help but wonder how she’d turned his beautiful face down in the first place. Maybe she had been running away from their bond from the start.

 

“Aelin, what’s wrong?” Dorian asked, blissfully ignorant to the burden that lay deep inside of him, inside of them both.

  
She considered snapping at him. But she already had a friendship with him, she didn’t want to ruin that despite the thread tugging them together. “I...Don’t worry, it’s none of your business…” she said at last, tugging her arm away without much resistance, and trudged off to her own tent. An ember catching alight at the war raging her heart.


	2. Pull My Heart Out of My Chest ~ Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where the ball starts rolling. I'm very excited to be posting this fic on Ao3 as it's been sat on Tumblr for too long~
> 
> There is NSFW content in this, you have been warned~

As Aelin began to move on from Rowan, she found herself drawn to other things...and by "other things" she meant the King of Adarlan. First, it was the small things like his smiles, the way his sapphire eyes shimmered in the moonlight, and his laugh of which she could listen to for hours. Then, she started noticing him more and more; his sweat-slicked skin after training, his slightly longer hair she'd dream of running her fingers through as his head dipped between her thighs- 

Slapping herself out of it, Aelin glared at Lysandra who gave her a knowing smirk from beside her as the boys returned from training. Of course Lysandra knew of the bond, she wasn't dumb, plus the fact Aelin told her when they were both shitfaced. But what Aelin hadn't disclosed yet, was the... _unconventional_ dream she had a couple of nights ago.

~

On her stomach on her bed, Aelin woke to the sensation of butterfly kisses ghosting their way up her back until a long, lingering kiss was pressed to her pulse on her neck.

"Good morning," she smiled to her fellow bed partner, still not opening her eyes to savour the feeling of his lips on her skin. "Did you sleep well?"

He chuckled, low and delightful. "Aelin," he chided, "you kept me up all night."

Giggling, she pressed her face into the pillow and moaned, "You too, asshole. I hate you."

More laughter, then, "Oh, really?" he said tauntingly, as the bed shifted beneath his weight. Then, suddenly, she was ripped from her pillow and flipped onto her back where two hands were planted beside her head. Her eyes flew open and she is met by a pair of familiar sapphire eyes. "Tell me you love me," Dorian teased, "or you're not leaving this bed."

She snorted. "Sounds good enough to me," she yawned before pulling the covers back up and pretending to go to sleep. But she couldn't keep it up for long, bursting into giggles. "I'm sorry, Dorian," she cried whilst wiping away tears of laughter. "I love you, I really do." A small part of her, in the back of her head, seemed surprised at how easily the words came to her, but she couldn't help but smile with her mate as she pulled him down for a kiss. _I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you,_ her mind repeated over and over again as their kiss deepened and a heat began to pool between her thighs.

His lips moved to her neck, her breasts, her navel, all the while her fingers wove their way through his hair. When his mouth came crashing down on hers again, she grabbed his hand and linked their fingers together, starlight leaking from their joined skin. Lazily, he wrapped her legs around his waist and with her other hand, she reached between them to guide his length inside of her.

They both sighed as he fit so deeply, and she wondered how it took so long to find him again, how she was so content without him by her side.

~

"And the moral of the story _is:_ " Aelin slurred after drinking half the wine bottle Lysandra bribed her with.

"Dick riding is not a legitimate mode of transportation!" Lysandra shouted, sloshing the wine in her glass as she thrust it in the air.

"No!" Aelin replieed with equal bravado. "I need to stop dreaming about having lazy morning sex with Dorian Havilliard!"

"Aw, why not?" Lysandra whined.

After pinning her friend with a death glare, Aelin began to stutter. "B-because...well...Because!" Lysandra smirked and raised an eyebrow. At this, the queen gave up, hanging her head and groaning her frustrations.

"So what did you do once you woke up?" Lysandra asked.

"Well, for one I was sad that I woke up in this camping hellhole and not my luscious bed in Orynth," Aelin replied, regarding her tent the two were currently sat in. "Then it all came back and I..." she trailed off. Technically, as soon as she woke up, she took out her new-found sexual frustrations on herself. But Lys didn't need to know that.

"Ha!" Lys shrieked. " _Now_ I know why you were avoiding Dorian all day." Then she started giggling uncontrollably. 

In truth, Aelin avoided him at all costs which included: pretending not to hear him when he called her name, looking absolutely everywhere but his eyes, and babbling uncontrollably whenever he managed to catch her in conversation. All the while, she couldn't stop thinking about his lips on her skin and wondering if his cock is as big as what she imagined in her dream.


	3. Only You Can Be the Aching in My Heart ~ Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have I ever mentioned that I love doraelin? Well I do and I presume what 75% of my fic on this damn site will be for them. Anyway, here is part 2, hope you enjoy~

As the days flew by, Aelin found a routine for her thoughts and feelings apart from war planning and training. She liked to think she got used to the dreams and dizzying fantasies that plagued her during the night, yet most mornings she would reach a hand out only to find her bed empty apart from herself. A wave of sadness would overcome her then, and she’d want to return to that dreamscape away from war and battle and blood.

Her brow furrowed as she stared off into space, her bowl of surprisingly delicious gruel sat half-eaten on the table. Still processing her dream from the night before, Aelin suddenly snapped back to reality from the sensation of getting hit on the forehead with a spoon.

“Are you awake in there?” Dorian asked and smiled as she scowled at him and rubbed her head. 

Since the dreams had become a regular thing, Aelin had taken to eating breakfast with Dorian in the mornings to remind her of what was real and what was not. Yet sometimes reality and fantasy blurred together and one morning Dorian had woken up to see Aelin watching him as she lay down beside him with a smug look on her face.

Thankfully, she had been clothed.

She spat a curse to which he chuckled. “I was...thinking,” she stuttered, a blush forming on her cheeks as her eyes tried to avoid all contact with his. A cluster of flowers caught her eye from his bed-side table and she asked, “What’s that?”

“Hmm?” he raised an eyebrow before following her gaze. “Oh, I found that there when I woke up.” He stood from the small dining table where they ate their meals and strode over to the foreign object. When he picked it up, she could see that it was a ring of interlocking flowers; a crown.

 _Faeries,_ Aelins started, _They know._

She blinked and suddenly it was atop his hair and an adorable smile brightened his features. Aelin couldn’t help it, so she grinned too at how cute he looked and a thought popped into her head. “I wager,” she began, “that you won’t be able to spend a full day wearing that thing.”

An eyebrow raised, a smirk pulled at his lips as he came back to the table. “And if I lose?” he asked, resting his chin in his hand.

“You have to spend a week wearing it.” He hummed that it would be easy enough. Then, she added, “And you have to give Terrasen one of your bitches.”

There was a bang as his fist slammed onto the table. “Madness!” he said in mock-horror. He took a moment to compose himself then begrudgingly replied, “Alright, and what if _you_ lose?”

Aelin thought long and hard about it, but in the end she replied, “I’ll leave that up to you.”

~

As Aelin trudged around the war camp, flower crown atop her head, heeled slippers digging into the mud, and her nicest gown slowly going to ruins - she sorely regretted making that wager a couple of days ago and she cursed the name of Dorian Havilliard. 

The king responsible for this torture walked with her, offering her no help as he crushed one of his puppies - one that could’ve been lost to Terrasen - to his chest.

But Aelin couldn’t admire him any less.


	4. Could've Been a Princess, You'd Be a King ~ Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I originally wrote this series, it was a collection of headcanons and (far-fetched) predictions for Empire of storms. After the release, this fic became more of a safe haven of which I could poor my heart and soul into, and I don't regret it in the least.  
> This chapter was originally from another fic I wrote that ended very differently but I tweaked it to suit my needs.  
> Hope you enjoy~

_They've just run away from some insignificant ball, hand in hand as Aelin drags him into one of Orynth's beautiful gardens. They find themselves in an alcove full of greenery and blooming flowers, a wrought iron bench hangs suspended between two magnificent trees. Dorian sits first, guiding Aelin down next to him and they just watch each other, the full moon casting an ethereal glow upon every surface it touches. **  
**_

_Beautiful._

_As soon as their lips meet, the first raindrop falls, the soft grass cushioning its fall. The more they kiss, more raindrops fall until the sky is showering. Aelin breaks away first, marvelling at her rainsoaked feet. Then she takes her shoes off, feeling the wet grass between her toes as she stands._

_"Let's dance," she tells Dorian, grabbing his hand once again to lead him to an empty patch of grass. Within minutes they are soaked, but that does nothing to affect their dancing, their eyes shining and lips pulled into grins._

_"Can we stay like this forever?" Dorian asks as they continue to dance all around the garden, dripping wet but still as happy as can be._

_"Surely, there's better things we can do?" Aelin offers, raising an eyebrow, she stops quickly to plant a kiss on his mouth._

~

“Aelin!” someone, a female voice, screeched and the Queen of Terrasen shot up from her mattress.

It took a moment for her to gather her thoughts, to remind herself that she was still in the war camp, and that the faerie tale ending she imagined was still so far out of reach. She looked up to see Lysandra at her bedside, whom had been previously shaking her awake.

“Lysandra? What-?”

“There’s no time! Quick! Get dressed!” the Lady continued as she ushered Aelin from her bed to her trunk of clothes.

“Why?” Aelin was shouting now. “What the hell is going on!? Are we under attack!?”

“No, stupid!” Lysandra replied. “But Rowan’s challenged your mate to a duel!”

“A duel!?”

~

“So,” said the King of Adarlan, stepping into the circle of which his soldiers drew for him and the fae male he was about to fight. “Is there a prize for the champion?”

Rowan Whitethorn stood at the opposite end of the arena, surveying Dorian with a cool gaze. A crowd of warriors started gathering around the chalk circle, Terrasen and Adarlanian alike, to watch the spectacle. Beforehand, the prince had challenged the king to a duel, curious to find out who the better ice wielder was in a battle of wind and snow.

In the cold of Adarlanian autumn, the sky was grey and the ground was a hard-packed mess of grass and mud, trodden in by the boots of the armies. There was a lull as the crowd watched in anticipation for the fight to begin, even the Queen of Terrasen stood at the forefront of the spectators with her cousin, Aedion, and Lady Lysandra.

But Aelin was too busy glaring at Rowan to really care about anything else.

 _What the hell do you think you are doing!?_ Her glare deepened when he just shrugged his shoulders.

 _Turning the wheel of fate,_ he smirked.

“A kiss,” said Rowan in reply, smirking as he looked over to Aelin. “From our fair queen.” Aelin glared even more, a fire burning in her scowling expression.

_What is this!? A set up!?_

_Exactly, your Majesty._

Was- was he intending to lose? To show off the king as the better warrior to his subjects and get him closer to Aelin?

A small part of her liked this idea.

~

“Or,” Dorian contradicted, his eyes shining a deep sapphire. “The satisfaction of victory?”

The fae male merely snorted, shifting into an offensive stance. In contrast, Dorian simply stood and regarded Rowan with calm calculation. He guessed that Rowan thought him to be no match for the prince - after all, Dorian was “vastly inexperienced” compared to Rowan and his immortal grace.

Lysandra lifted a scrap of fabric in the air above her head, signalling for the two men to prepare themselves. When the scrap was thrown to the floor, the world exploded with ice and the spectators had to shield their eyes from the shards as Dorian was soon swept up in a frozen prison.

He banged on the ice, the surface refusing to shatter under his fist. Rowan had the king encased and he prowled triumphantly yet still cautiously as half the crowd roared his name. However, Dorian could not be defeated so easily. With a wave of his graceful hands, the case shattered outwards yet hovered at the edges of the arena, a few men and women flinching at the shards of ice so near their faces.

Yet, Rowan did not seem surprised, judging by the warrior facade he wore and the two blades he’d retrieved from the sheathes at his back. Dorian had not entered the chalk circle with any weapon, trusting in his own abilities to be an extension of himself. The shards of ice that still hovered in the air began to change shape, spike-like, and with a gentle flick of his wrist, the daggers shot straight at the fae male who threw up a frozen barrier to protect himself.

As the spikes hit Rowan’s shield, they began to condense into mist of which Rowan used to mask the arena, hindering Dorian’s vision. At this, Dorian held his hand out and took hold of the glass sword that he had crafted from his magic.

 _Why carry a weapon when you already carry an arsenal within yourself,_ he thought as he lifted his blade in a defensive stance, examining his surroundings for a silhouette of the prince.

Soon, his glass sword met one of steel, the two men twisted in a dance of ice and wind. On the contrary, Rowan was a war-trained fae who began to grow too fast for Dorian to keep up who had never known the hardships of battle and was ordinarily human - or as far as he could tell.

In a flash, his blade was knocked out of his hand and his feet came out from beneath him, hitting the hard ground with a thud and a groan. The tip of a blade was then placed on his chest over his heart, and he looked up to meet Rowan’s green eyes.

“Any last words before you lose, your Majesty?” Rowan grunted victoriously, yet his face looked bored. Around them, the fog began to clear and the crowd stood in silence as they anticipated the outcome of this battle - it was very simple. But Dorian wasn’t one to give into fate and destiny.

“Uh,” Dorian considered this for a while, then replied, “How about: look up?”

The prince looked confused at first, then cast his eyes upwards to see Dorian’s glass blade and a dozen other replicas hovering above his head. The armies of Adarlan cheered at their king’s infinite craft while those of Terrasen stood gaping - except their queen, she actually looked impressed.

Then Dorian cleared his throat and started again. “Anyway,” Rowan looked at him once more. “Shall we call it a draw?”

Rowan just grunted and grumbled to himself as he removed his blade and stalked away. Meanwhile, Dorian sat up and leaned back on his hands, taking in his partial victory in outsmarting a fae warrior at his own game. The Terrasen lot dispersed along with a few of his own but most of his countrymen stayed both in respect and fear of their king.

~

The crowd parted easily for Aelin as she stepped towards the Adarlanian King. He was busy being congratulated by his countrymen and Chaol hung close to his side, but his attention was immediately captured when she cleared her throat.

She shrugged. “Seems I owe you a kiss now, your Majesty.” She tried to play it off as a joke, but inside, she was yearning to feel his lips on hers after a year of being apart. Maybe it was just the mate bond pulling them together, but she still felt a strong sense of longing for him like the mornings spent in panic when she woke up and he wasn’t there.

He raised an eyebrow but strode over to her anyway. And Aelin wondered if she was still dreaming when his hands came up to hold her face and he leaned in close enough to share breath. Heart beating like crazy, she felt a blush rise to her cheeks and her eyes fluttered half shut as he tilted her face up to meet his.

“Kiss my ass, Galathynius.”

The crowd exploded with laughter as Aelin was left red-faced and embarrassed and cold without Dorian’s touch. The king was grinning ear to ear as he clenched his stomach to keep from doubling over in laughter.

Then suddenly he was thrown to the ground as Aelin straddled his hips, his collar scrunched up in her fists. “You can kiss _my_ ass after I beat your face in, Havilliard,” she started laughing too and the two of them rolled around the muddy ground as they bruised and batted each other until they grew tired and stopped for some lunch.


	5. We're Burning on the Edge of Something Beautiful ~ Part 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was at this point that I actually started caring about this series and that I actually wanted to pursue it to the end. I like to regard myself as notorious for not finishing fics but I was determined with this one, my love for doraelin knows no bounds.  
> Enjoy~

“Never have I ever...”

There was a pause as Rowan looked around the circle, considering what he was going to say. The Terrasen court had earlier decided to spend the evening getting drunk in order to warm their stomachs as the months got colder. This also meant being joined by Chaol as emissary who, in turn, invited the Adarlanian Court, who, in turn, invited Manon who simply spat a curse and stole away Elide to tend to Abraxos.

“...got drunk and had a threesome,” Rowan finished.

Aedion, who was sat next to the fae warrior, begrudgingly took a swig of his drink and pointed menacingly into Rowan’s nose. “I’m onto you, Whitethorn, stop singling me out,” Aedion slurred, then to the whole circle, he added, “I’m feeling so attacked.”

But the circle erupted into laughter gaining the attention of the nearby soldiers, but none questioned the group of royals and nobles gathered around a pitiful campfire - one lit manually to Aelin’s chagrin - as they drank and sang and laughed together.

As if war wasn’t looming over the horizon.

Then a gasp interrupted the laughter.

“Little good boy, Dorian,” Lysandra giggled when she noticed the king drinking to Rowan’s challenge. “how sinful you are.”

Eye twitching, Aelin swallowed her growl at how flirtatious her lady became when drunk, and focused her jealousy on the dying campfire.

As the fire was relighted, Dorian merely shrugged. “Who isn’t adventurous at eighteen?” With a whoop from Aedion, the circle raised their glasses.

“Okay, okay, my turn!” Lysandra cheered, and narrowed her eyes at the circle, picking her next victim.

 _Most likely Aedion,_ Aelin thought, everyone liked to torture him.

“Never have I ever...” she enunciated slowly - partly because she was drunk but also for suspense purposes, “kissed a Havilliard.” She began to giggle when Aedion spat a torrent of curses and took another drink, and Dorian just looked smug as all but Rowan, Nesryn, and Lysandra took a drink.

After a half hour later, Aelin began feeling really whoozy and she suspected the rest of the circle did too; hell, Chaol had collapsed and was now drooling on Nesryn’s shoulder. Aedion was the drunkest of them all yet he had gotten himself into a drinking contest with Rowan; the outcome of which was uncertain.

Then Aelin’s attention was brought to Dorian as he attempted to get Chaol on his feet. “Come on,” he said quietly. “Let’s get you to bed.”

“But who will protect you from your nightmares?” Chaol whined as Dorian slung his arm over his shoulder, but his slurring was barely audible above the chatter from the rest of the group.

“You don’t need to anymore,”Dorian replied, helping Chaol walk back to his tent. “The nightmares are all gone.”

“Alright,” Aelin picked up faintly as their bodies disappeared.

She tried to return her attention back to the circle but her thoughts lingered on what Dorian had said. He’d had nightmares? And he didn’t tell her? Not once in their correspondences during the time they were apart did he mention nightmares. She knew it originated from the horrors he’d been subjected to, who wouldn’t have nightmares from that? But she’d hoped, at least, that he’d tell her if anything was amiss.

She’d confront him in the morning, she vowed- No, now, she’d confront him now.

Wishing her good nights, Aelin stood from the campfire and made her way to Chaol’s tent in hopes that Dorian would still be there.

He was, but when Aelin opened the flap to enter she wasn’t expecting to see Dorian wrapped up in Chaol’s arms as their lips were locked in a drunken kiss.

A little shocked and a little jealous, Aelin cleared her throat and the two broke apart; Chaol smiling smugly as Dorian turned red. Chaol grinned even more when he caught sight of the queen and slurred a “Hey, Aelin,” before almost collapsing in Dorian’s arms.

She and Dorian fell into a silence as she helped him get Chaol into his bed, and when she couldn’t bear the awkward silence any longer, she said, “That was...umm...”

“Chaol gets clingy when he’s drunk,” Dorian half-laughed, and stepped back a bit from his sleeping courtier and meeting Aelin’s curious eyes.

“Yeah, I guessed,” she replied, remembering how he took a drink earlier at Lysandra’s _Never Have I ever..._ “but I didn’t think he was...”

“Wildly in love with me?” Dorian suggested, then gazed down at Chaol’s sleeping form, a small smile on his lips. “Everyone was,” he added softly.

 _I still am,_ Aelin thought but remained silent, wanting to know more.

“Chaol and I were lovers at one point. Only for about a year. But...I was the reason he revoked his title and joined my father’s guard.” He suddenly looked sad, no doubt at the memories flooding his head but he turned away and let a smile onto his features again. “It was a long time ago,” he began again. “Or at least it feels like it. Almost like what we had.”

Her heart fluttered at this as his eyes gazed over her once more. Though, even she admitted that their previous relationship had felt like a dream. Without thinking, she walked up to him and grabbed his hand. “Come with me,” she commanded, a sly smile pulling at her lips as she pulled him with her.. “I want to show you something.”

“Where are we going?” Dorian asked as she led them through the war camps, into the forest, and continued onward until they happened upon an enclosed spring surrounded by willows and fireflies and toadstools.

A faerie land.

Even as they came to a stop, Aelin refused to let go of his hand but he wasn’t bothered. He stood gaping as he drank in the mystical pool. It was breath-taking.

“Rowan and I found this place shortly after we arrived at the war camp,” Aelin said as she tugged him to the bank where they sat down. “I like to come here to get away from everything else. War. The Valg. My court.” She giggled at that last one. “I just come here to relax.”

After rolling her trousers up, she began to unlace her boots, then took off her socks to plunge her feet into the pool, and Dorian shortly followed suit.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Dorian started, leaning back on his hands. “Why did you end things with Rowan?”

Aelin froze.

“I thought things were going so well between you two.”

Sighing, she half-lied, “Well... _he_ ended it with _me_.” She blushed and Dorian simply nodded. “Things were always rocky between us and we used to fight a lot. In the end, he thought it would be best if we split up” She swallowed, preparing herself for her next half-truth. “ _And..._ he was jealous...of you.”

Dorian raised an eyebrow, both confused and honoured. “Of _me_?”

She nodded. “He was jealous that I was with you a lot...and that we have such a close friendship.” And this was all true. Aelin even recalled how he growled when - once they’d arrived at the war camp - Aelin had thrown herself into Dorian’s arms after not seeing him for months.

She had missed him, that was all.

But now she knew _why._

“Okay, that’s enough about me,” Aelin said now with a clap. “Now, it’s my turn to ask something personal about _you.”_

Smirking, Dorian laid down on the grass and folded his hands behind his head. “Fire away,” he offered.

Outright, Aelin asked, “Why didn’t you tell me about the nightmares?”

He froze, taking a moment to process her question, then he sat up again, brows drawn. “Who told you?” he asked simply.

“I overheard your conversation with Chaol,” she admitted, then pressed, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He didn’t answer for a couple of minutes, opting to craft little lotus flowers to float on the surface of the pool, and she marvelled at how much precision and control he already had. “I didn’t want you to worry,” he shrugged. “Because I knew you’d come racing back to Rifthold if you knew.”

She opened her mouth to retort, but no counter came so he closed it again. He was right, she would have.

She dreaded her next sentence. “They’re still happening, aren’t they?”

He nodded slowly, then added, “But they’re not as bad as they used to be. Or at least when Chaol was sleeping with me. I’d told him they’d gone when we got here. It’s not his job to protect me anymore.”

“Dorian, you’re an imbecile.”

Laughing, he said, “Sympathetic as always, I see, Galathynius.”

“I’m serious!” she countered, giggling also as she shoved him on the shoulder. “You’re a selfless dimwit who doesn’t know how to ask for help!”

“Who is also devilishly handsome,” he added but that only provoked her into shoving him again.

“That’s it!” the queen shrieked, standing suddenly to gather her boots and socks. “I’m taking you to bed.”

An eyebrow raised, Dorian smirked. “At least treat me to dinner first.”

“Shut it!” she fired, slapping him around the face with a sock.


	6. Is it Desire, Or is it Nothing I'm Feeling for You ~ Part 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be honest, with out this fic or Queen of Glass, for that matter, I - and many other doraelin shippers - would probably be dead by now. It's a sad story really, we held onto this series for as long as possible only for our ship to sink like the titanic.  
> But who cares when fanfiction exists.  
> Oh, how I love to suffer.  
> Enjoy~

“Do you think we'll be remembered as gods?” Aelin asked as she stared up at the roof of Dorian's tent. They lay top and tail on his bed, having nothing better to do as they counted the hours until they could fall asleep.

Dorian laughed a little, but it was more of a sigh really. Although Aelin knew it had little to do with her lack of stimulating conversation, she could tell by the cold air emanating from Dorian’s skin that had been around him all day. At least he had it localised and was not plaguing the entire camp with a premature winter.

Aelin knew he was scared to fall asleep.

The night before had been rough. He had awoken every few hours in a cold sweat as he cried out for Sorscha and screamed at all the horrors flooding his mind. And every time he wept, she did too, as if somehow through the bond she was feeling his pain.

Dorian sat up now, looking down at Aelin warmly despite the ice on his skin. “Are we even gods in the first place?” he asked in reply.

“Depends,” Aelin said as she sat up also. “I think at one point we were...you know...before you destroyed the castle.” She swallowed, but a smile slowly formed on her face as she continued. “When we joined hands...and I thought the world was going to end.”

Nodding, a smile appeared on his lips too. “To be honest with you, I felt so _happy_ when we did that.” His brow furrowed as he looked away. “And when it ended...I was empty...I wanted that happiness again.”

“We can try.”

His eyes snapped to hers but there was no mockery in them, only determination.

Holding out her hand, she repeated, “Let’s try again.” Then shrugged, a grin pulling at the corners of her mouth. “I mean, Rowan said we probably shouldn’t but since when have I ever listened to orders?”

Suddenly filled with more confidence, he gave one last nod before tentatively placing his hand in hers.

There was nothing at first. Just the sensation of skin on skin. But they focused on their magic, calling it to combine in their joined hands. And it grew. Cautiously, a wisp of starlight danced about the air, floating around the bodies and touching their skin in a light caress.

Then more wisps came, building up a small glow inside their small haven of a tent. And it was as if nothing else mattered in the world anymore. Just them.

Instinctively, they found themselves leaning into one another, wanting no more space save for unrelenting happiness. Their kiss was slow, unhurried, as if they had all the time in the world. There was nothing but them and the light.

But then Dorian took his hand away, and they became their separate selves once more. “What was _that_?” he whispered, searching for the answer within Aelin’s turquoise eyes.

Aelin, now so empty and so sad, replied, “I don’t know.” Then she realised how close they faces were and instantly reddened,  yanking herself away to the foot of the bed. “Uh, well,” she tried to change the topic. “I think that’s enough excitement for one night! I need my beauty sleep.”

At this, Dorian sighed and collapsed back on the bed as Aelin hopped off to the small futon where she usually slept. However, when she got there, her hands flew to her mouth as she tried to recall the sensation of Dorian’s kiss. Unfortunately, it was all a fuzzy haze but Aelin thought that it probably wasn’t that different to how he’d kissed her before.

Oh, how she wanted him to kiss her again.

“Wait a minute.”

Aelin spun round to see Dorian sat up on his bed again. He scooted over slightly and patted the spot next to him. “I find it easier to sleep when there’s someone next to me,” he said, his request more suited to an a ten year old scared of the monster beneath his bed than a twenty year old king. “You wouldn’t mind-”

“No!”

He lifted an eyebrow.

“I mean,” Aelin fumbled. “No, I wouldn’t mind.” She smiled warmly at him. “You’re my friend. I’d do anything for you.”

She came over to him after wrapping herself up in a blanket, then she threw herself onto the bed as he climbed in and made herself at home amongst his mountain of pillows. He gave her a questioning look at her thick, furry blanket to which she replied, “What? I don’t want to freeze in my sleep because you can’t regulate your Gods damn body temperature!”

And she was right, the air around his body was still freezing cold, but she hoped it would dissipate as the night wore on.

Leaning over, he was about to blow out his bedside candle when her voice stopped him.

“Wait,” she said, then with a grin she added, “Read me a story.”

He chuckled. “What are you? Twelve?”

“Yes.”

Rolling his eyes, he got up and walked over to the stack of books he kept on his work desk. “And what should I read to you, your Majesty?” he asked sarcastically to which Aelin threw a pillow at him.

An even cheekier grin adorned her face, though. “ _Sunset’s Passions_ ,” she said with pride.

“I was going to give it back to you, I swear!” he jumped back defensively.

“Don’t worry about it,” she shrugged. “Rowan bought me a better edition anyway.” She threw another pillow at him. “Now read to me!”

“You are so demanding,” Dorian mused, then flinched at the pillow that threatened to come his way. “Okay okay! I will!”

After grabbing the book from its stack, Dorian came back into bed and snuggled deep into the pillows before opening the smutty novel and starting to read. And within fifteen minutes they were fast asleep.


	7. I Try to Hold on But it Hurts Too Much ~ Part 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I started writing this, I had no intention for it to take an angsty turn and for that I am deeply sorry like jfc I have no self control.  
> But I love causing people pain so...  
> whoops...  
> Enjoy~

_There was ice. So much ice. It was a plague, holding the world hostage with its frozen fingers and swallowing all light and hope. And it was so, so cold. The heart like a beating chasm of darkness and horror._

_And blood._

_There was so much blood._

_It filled their lungs, drowning them as they choked for air. But it was as never ending as the ice. And they could not hold onto each other for much longer._

_They cried out as they were ripped apart._

~

The first thing Aelin noticed when she woke, was the lack of a body beside her on the bed. Then she realised that her dream was not reality and she was still the solitary queen on the brink of war.

But wait. There was _supposed_ to be someone sleeping with her.

 _Dorian,_ she thought and panic struck her instantly, sitting bolt upright in bed as she scanned her surroundings. Nothing about the tent was too out of the ordinary, but the entrance to the tent that was ripped wide open set alarm bells ringing in her head.

Tugging on a pair of boots and a jacket, Aelin ventured out into the still and slumbering camp. Very few were up at this time, the sky was still dark and the blistering cold kept life at bay. The temperature had dropped drastically since she and Dorian had fallen asleep, and that could only mean one thing.

Willing herself to stay focused and not burn down the entire camp to find him, Aelin let the thin, glowing thread between them guide her back to him. It was a faint tug at her middle, almost unrecognisable without her fae senses, that brought her to a clearing far from the camp.

Even as she neared, the world became colder and colder. Her breath froze in front of her face and a thin layer of frost coated the grass of which she melted with every step of her feet.

She found it beautiful, in a sense.

He was knelt at the centre of the clearing, snowflakes dancing in the air around him, as the snow cushioned his mortal body. He almost looked peaceful, serene, in his paradise of hoarfrost. 

If it weren’t for his choked sobs and the blood ringing his neck.

As Aelin drew closer, she heard his mutters - prayers - and saw the scratch marks on his neck, as if he was trying to carve something out of him. “Dorian, she said tentatively, keeping her steps slow and even as she approached. Holding out a hand, she repeated, “Dorian,” and bent to look him in the eye.

Then she jumped back at the sudden stalagmites that burst from the ground. They formed a ring, an impenetrable shield around him as he finally met her eyes. There was so much pain in them as they filled with tears. All the while he did not stop clawing at his neck.

“Don’t touch me,” he pleaded with a sob. “I don’t want to hurt you, Aelin.” Shaking his head, he avoided her gaze and opted to stare at the floor. “It’s still inside me. The collar never came off,” he whimpered.

“Like hell it didn’t!” Aelin shouted, hot, angry tears scolding her cheeks. With one wave of her hand, the stalagmites were in engulfed in flame and reduced to a puddle. She fell to her knees then, forcing Dorian to look up at her.

He tried to force her back with his magic, sending her back a few feet. “Get away from me!” he choked above the roar of wind he wielded. “It won’t come off. The collar won’t come off!”

Clothes and hair whipping at her skin, she fought hard against the wind, to get closer to Dorian. “The demon is gone, Dorian!” she shouted. “You snapped the collar from your neck!” She stumbled but kept going. “It was Chaol! He helped you break free!” she tried, anything that could get him to snap out of it, to make him see. “And Sorscha!” The wind faltered at her name. “What would she think of you giving up like this!?”

“How dare you!?” The wind grew faster and harder. “You never even knew she existed!”

“I know!” Aelin pleaded now, “but it’s true! How can you be a better king than your father when you’re broken into pieces like this!?”

And he broke even more.

Slowly but surely, Dorian lowered his outstretched hand, the wind dying with it. Although his broken sobs remained and his hands continued to grasp at his neck, he allowed Aelin to collapse before him and melt the ice that had coated the clearing.

“Get it off me, Aelin,” he choked. “Take the collar off.”

She hushed him before taking his bloodied hand in hers. “It’s gone now,” she breathed. “The demon can’t hurt you any more.” And with that, she pulled him into her arms, crying into his shoulder as she repeated over and over again, “You’re okay, you’re safe, they can’t hurt you, you’re okay, you’re safe, they can’t hurt you...”

~

“I don’t understand it,” Dorian said now, wrapped up in blankets, neck newly bandaged, with a cup of tea in his hands. “I thought I was healing, and it was going so well up until a couple of nights ago.” His eyes were downcast, staring into his tea as if he felt guilty for regressing.

“Recovery isn’t linear, Dorian,” Aelin said softly from her spot opposite him. “There will always be bumps in the road.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“I’m serious,” she affirmed. “I went through a similar ordeal myself.”

His eyebrow didn’t even quiver.

“Well, not... _that_  - I can’t even imagine what horrors you’ve seen - but I’ve been through a hell of a lot of grief and...” She stopped herself before she said something stupid. “I just want to be a good friend.” She smiled slightly and he slowly returned it before taking a sip of his tea.

Clearing her throat, she started again. “There was a saying I always used when I was a slave in Endovier, a saying that Sam taught me long before he died.” She swallowed at the memories threatening to overwhelm her. “I said, _My name is Celaena Sardothien, and I will not be afraid,_ for every day that I was in those mines.”

“And did it work?” Dorian asked, suddenly intrigued.

“Not always,” she said honestly, “but it gave me enough courage to get up every morning and not give in to whatever life threw at me.”

He nodded, too exhausted to press any further.

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I am extremely tired,” she yawned, and stretched for emphasis. Collapsing onto the bed beside him, Aelin sighed in content and eyed her bed partner. “You look adorable like that,” she said without thinking, instantly regretting it.

From amongst his pile of covers, a grin broke out onto his face and Aelin started regretting her comment for a very different reason. But he was happy, and that was enough. “Don’t you mean... _adorianable_ ,”

“I will murder you in your sleep,” she deadpanned before rolling over away from him.


	8. Something 'bout You Makes Me Feel Like a Dangerous Woman ~ Part 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I managed to write this all within an hour before it was supposed to be published which was hard considering I know shit all about how to write fight scenes but hopefully what I have here is enough!  
> This fic is slightly more NSFW than the previous ones, not by much, but I thought I’d make up for the emotional rollercoaster that was the previous chapter. I also thought it would be funny to explore sexual tension a bit more considering how Doraelin’s went out the window after the first book.  
> Enjoy~

Aelin Galathynius liked to think she’d gotten used to the dizzying fantasies, wild thoughts, and inappropriate comments that bubbled up inside of her when the King of Adarlan was concerned. But that didn’t stop her dreading the sunrise.

Part of her regretted agreeing to stay with Dorian and help him fight off his nightmares, only due to the awkward situations it generated. Thankfully, only once did she find herself cradled in his arms after wriggling over to him during the night.

“If I’d known you were clingy, Aelin, I would have left you on that futon to freeze,” he had teased and had been promptly attacked and suffocated.

This particular morning, Aelin woke alone but soon her eyes fell to the half naked male across the room. Dorian had his back to her, in the process of pulling a shirt over his head, and she frowned when his magnificent torso was hidden from view.

When he turned, he took in Aelin’s smug face and raised an eyebrow. “What’s gotten you so chipper?” he asked, coming back to the bed to pull on his boots. “Usually you’re no talk, all grump in the mornings.”

She sunk deeper into the bed, nestling between his pillows. “One glance at what’s under your shirt would brighten anyone’s day,” she said matter-of-factly.

He chuckled at her sudden bout of confidence and shook his head, tugging on his jacket before heading to the tent’s entrance. At this, Aelin scrambled up, tangling herself in blankets and sheets.

“Where are you going?” she said a bit too quickly.

Dorian turned back and shook his head again slightly, confused as to why she was acting so strange. “I’m hungry,” he replied. “I’m going to get breakfast.”

Smiling stupidly, she sat crossed legged and propped her arm up on her knee to which she rested her chin on her fist. “I’ve got all the breakfast you need right here,” she said suggestively.

From her comment, a long, awkward silence stretched between them. And gradually she realised what horrors had escaped her mouth, her mind too delirious to differentiate dreams from reality. 

He was not her lover.

Nor we’re they at a point in their friendship where they could banter sexual comments freely.

Her eyes widened.

“I appreciate the offer, Aelin,” Dorian surprised her by saying, “but I’m rather certain a delicacy such as yourself would be better suited to dessert.”

Dumbfounded, Aelin could only stare as Dorian disappeared from view. Promptly, Aelin then threw the bed covers over her head and collapsed onto the bed, praying to every single god out there to remove her from this world.

~

“And then what happened!?” Lysandra exclaimed as she and her queen ate their breakfast.

“Nothing,”Aelin replied with a whine. “I haven’t spoken to him since.”

They sat within view of the training grounds, out in the open air - that grew colder each day, wrapped in thick fighting leathers as they watched soldiers as they battled and exercised. It was Lysandra’s morning routine, seeming as she had nothing better to do.

“Have I ever told you how much I love shirtless warriors,” Lysandra said abruptly.

Choking on her food slightly, Aelin said, “Wha-? Yes. Lysandra don’t change the subject!”

“Oh yes,” Lysandra replied as she collected her thoughts. “In my opinion-”

“Oh no.”

“-I think you should go with it.”

Aelin was about to retort when she began considering Lysandra’s advice.

“You’re _mates_ , for gods sake,” Lysandra continued. “You’re going to want to ride his dick eventually...and then some.”

She wanted to hiss at her. To tell her not to say such things in public. But her mind took her other places; the sensation of lips on skin, breathy moans that beg for more, unfathomable pleasure coursing through her veins.

“I want to suck his dick,” Aelin said suddenly. Horrified, yet again, at her own words, she slapped a hand to her mouth as _Lysandra_ choked on her food this time.

“I don’t blame you, sweetie,” the Lady replied once she recovered. The she took Aelin’s bowl from her and gestured to the king as he strode onto the training grounds. “Go get him,” she commanded.

“What!? No. Right now!? In front of all those people!?” Aelin stumbled, trying to get her food back, but Lys held it far out of reach.

“No!” Lys exclaimed, frowning. “I mean go talk to him, flirt with him, use some of that Galathynius charm.”

Aelin snorted. “What Galathynius charm?”

“Whatever you used to get Rowan to fuck you,” Lys replied.

Groaning, Aelin stood up and scowled at her Lady - who gave her a thumbs up - before stomping over to the training grounds. The first thing she noticed upon reaching the field was the stench of sweaty bodies as some sparred, others wielded weapons, and a few watched the fights ensue.

“Her Majesty blesses us with her presence!” someone - mostly likely Aedion - called from her left. She whipped around to see him standing beside a rack of weapons, arms folded over his chest, a smirk pulling at his lips. “For whom have you come to humiliate this time, dear cousin?”

“You if you don’t shut your trap,” she hissed back, setting the grass he stood on alight. It took him a while to notice but he panicked suddenly and leaped into the air before stamping the fire out, all the while Aelin was laughing.

“I’d bet 20 gold to see her Majesty beat the king,” a voice said from the growing crowd.

“I’d pay 50!” someone else shouted.

The crowd erupted, shouting bet after bet as Aelin blinked at the sudden attention.

“It appears they want us to fight,” Dorian said as he suddenly appeared beside her, causing her to jump. He laughed.

Huffing out a sigh, Aelin conceded.

~

“Rules are as follows:” Aedion began as he stalked between the king and the queen standing within the white chalk circle. “No magic will be permitted.” Aelin groaned. “Use of magic will result in disqualification. Training staffs may be used within the fight. Victory shall be claimed for the winner who holds their opponent down for a full fifteen seconds.”

Aelin caught the staff that was thrown to her, spinning it in her hands a couple of times before getting into a defensive position. She watched Dorian, her opponent, get into a similar stance as Aedion left the ring.

Not a moment later, the battle was signalled to start and Aelin flew into action, hooking her staff out to swipe at Dorian’s legs. He evaded but she tried several times to knock him off his feet, each time failing, but managed to land a blow to his torso, knocking him back a few feet.

“You forget,” Aelin panted with pride. “I spent ten years of my life training as an assassin.” He struck again but she easily parried. “You can’t win, Dorian.”

“I can certainly try,” he replied, swiping at her left and right with his staff until they met blow for blow. “Remind me,” he said, their staffs grating on each other as they applied almost equal force. “What were you offering just this morning?”

Aelin hissed and broke away, stumbling back a few steps. “Fighting dirty, are we, Havilliard?”

“As dirty as the thoughts you have about me, your Majesty,” Dorian smirked before lunging for her again.

The crowd were roaring, as Aelin blushed, meeting his attacks with as much strength as she could muster. For a human, he was very capable. “I have a question for you then,” Aelin proclaimed, narrowly avoiding getting hit in the head. “Between you, Chaol, and Rowan, who is the better swordsman?”

She lunged for Dorian again but he whipped out of the way and blocked against her overhead attack. “Depends what kind of sword,” he mused as he kicked her exposed middle. She went sprawling, her staff falling from her grip. He aimed the butt of his staff at her chest before she could get up. “Naturally, I’d think I’m the best.”

Kicking at his shin, he collapsed onto the ground and she climbed atop him before he could get up. “Well, I’ve seen Rowan wield his sword first hand so I would have to disagree with you.”

He managed to roll them over so she was pinned beneath him. “In all honesty, you have not seen how well _I_ can wield a sword so I don’t believe that is a fair judgement.”

A furious blush warmed her cheeks, her body heating just as much. “Then show me,” she panted.

His eyes widened at her comment, a blush staining his face as well, and his grip let up enough for her to overpower him once more.

“Really, Dorian?” she said disapprovingly as she straddled his hips. “I thought you were better than that.”

He didn’t fight her anymore, content to just smirk up at her as he lay on the ground, the crowd chanting the countdown from fifteen. Once they reached the end, they cheered Aelin’s name and claimed whatever gold they had bet on her to win.

Biting her lip, ignored the sudden tension in her body and willed herself to stand, holding a hand out for Dorian too. He took it gratefully and pressed a lingering kiss to her knuckles before wandering away as the crowd engulfed her.


	9. A Stranger's Eyes That Somehow Look Familiar ~ Part 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so the entire time I was writing this chapter I was screaming about human anatomy and how tf does it work. But judging by the feedback I got from this part, some people weren't too horrified but my terrible writing, so there's that.  
> This chapter will contain NSFW content, stay thirsty kids~

When winter finally came along, Aelin hadn’t yet confessed her feelings for Dorian. In fact, the two of them spent weeks dancing around it as they taunted and teased without acknowledging the elephant in the room.

They were attracted to each other.

They were within an unnameable void between friends and lovers. It was routine to wake up in each other’s arms, make lewd comments whenever they were in the same vicinity long enough, and train together as fire, ice, and starlight.

But they hadn’t kissed once, not since all those weeks ago. She hadn’t had the courage to.

Lysandra was obviously displeased. “How Aelin.” Not a question. “How.” They were in her Lady’s tent, having the “girl time” Lys so often wanted with her queen, sipping wine and playing _Would You Rather.._. “You been sleeping with him for gods know how long, you’re mates if you’ve forgotten, and he’s one of the finest specimens to ever walk this earth, Aelin, and you haven’t even _kissed him!?”_

“Well,” Aelin offered. “I _have_ kissed him-”

“That was a year ago!” Lysandra flailed, then collected herself, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Look, tomorrow’s Yulemas. What better way to show your affections than to kiss him on the same day that you got together.”

Aelin opened her mouth to speak again but Lysandra cut her off as she shoved a glass of wine in her hand. “Drink this. Go out there. Smooch him. And come back. That’s all I’m asking of you.”

Taking a large gulp, Aelin then handed the glass back to her Lady and got up from her bed. “I feel like a fourteen year old crushing on boys again,” she admitted and headed outside.

The sky was dark, the sun long since descending below the horizon. A bonfire had been lit and many had gathered around it, singing and chanting and getting drunk in the countdown to Yulemas. Aelin surveyed the crowd, searching for Dorian and she spotted Lysandra not too far away, out to join the festivities.

It was wonderful to see everyone gathered like this, all countries, all races, coming together to celebrate the winter solstice. A smile bloomed on her face, and it widened when she finally saw him, standing with Chaol and the rest of his court, laughing together as if all the evil in the world had suddenly faded away.

She practically skipped over to him, suddenly appearing beside him as she pulled him down to press her lips to his. He was surprised at first, but it didn’t take him long to melt into the kiss as his arms came around her. Their kiss was lazy and slow, embracing each other in the light and warmth of the bonfire.

When they broke apart, he pressed his forehead against hers, a grin pulling at his lips. “Took you long enough,” he mused as he regained his breath.

She chuckled, not caring if the others stared at them, she was used to it. “I’m here now, aren’t I,” she breathed smiling at the role reversal. After a year, everything was so different, but it felt so right. Her heart had been waiting a long time for this.

Kissing him again, she let herself go. Last year this had felt so wrong, she wouldn’t let herself get attached, and there were so many obstacles in the way. She threw herself of a cliff. They were free to make her own decisions now, the bindings of slave and slave master gone and now, they joined together as equals.

She loved him, with all her heart she loved him.

And she let that mate bond snap into place.

A weight had been lifted off her chest as she broke the kiss, losing herself in his deep blue eyes. She wondered if he felt the pulsing thread between them, but how could he? He was human.

She sighed as she lay her head on his shoulder, watching the bonfire lick its way to the sky. Like this, she was just content to stay in his arms considering how Lysandra’s plan went out the window. 

Shivering, a smile grew on her lips as Dorian’s hand drifted downwards before coming to rest on her behind. She lifted her head and met his gaze. “What are you doing?” she asked, lifting an eyebrow.

He feigned cluelessness. “I don’t know what you are talking about,” he replied with a knowing smirk.

Rolling her eyes, she pulled him down for one last lingering kiss. “Come find me later,” she murmured before disappearing into the crowd. She would’ve stayed longer, ever the fan of social gathering and parties, but there was a hunger growing inside of her, and she knew what would unfold after this night.

~

Dorian found her bathing in the spring deep in the forest. She’d been practising with her water magic, but she could do no better than create orbs to float around her as she waited. Her clothes were neatly folded on the bank, leaving her practically naked apart from her undergarments.

“I thought I might find you here,” his voice called from the bank and she turned around to see him tugging off his shirt. She bit her lip at the sight of his muscled torso and wondered what else he was hiding beneath his clothes. Soon, he had stripped down to his underwear, and began walking into the pool.

The moon was full tonight, making the water glow in its light as he joined her in the centre. Even in the winter chill, the spring was surprisingly warm and lotus flowers began to bloom around them.

“Interesting turn of events, don’t you think?” Aelin wondered aloud as Dorian drew her into his arms, she had been treading water before so the pool came up to her shoulders.

“Indeed,” Dorian agreed, brushing a damp lock of hair from her face. “It’s been a year and you _still_ haven’t gotten over me.”

She playfully smacked him as he chuckled, but started laughing too. “I’m determined to do more this time,” she promised, wrapping her arms around his neck.

The moment they kissed, she knew it was different. the fire in her burned bright at the prospect of more. She whined when he broke away suddenly, but he soon made up for it as his lips traced her jawline.

A soft moan escaped her lips as his teeth grazed the skin of her neck.

It was hard to believe that this was real, that he was finally real and in her arms as he pleasured her in ways she'd only dreamed of. Every part of her skin his lips touched left her cold and shivering and she was half-surprised that she hadn't boiled away half the small spring already.

"Dorian..." she breathed, and he captured her lips once more. "I want you," she whispered huskily, "I need more..."

"I want you, too," he replied, equally as breathless as he picked her up to wrap her legs around his waist. They were both dripping wet as Dorian carried her to the grassy bank of the spring where he laid her down gently before exploring her whole body with his mouth.

She shivered in anticipation as he neared the dangerous territory between her thighs. He looked up at her then, his eyes glinting mischievously. "Please..." she whimpered, begging the full moon as much as the king kneeling before her. And when he pressed his lips to her entrance, her soaked underwear became even more wet as a delicious hum vibrated in her throat. 

He rose to kiss her upon the mouth again and her fingers combed at his hair but his hand strayed to her underwear where he began teasing her into releasing gorgeous moans. As soon as his fingers slipped the fabric aside, he felt how truly wet she was for him and his equally soaking underwear could not take how hard he was. Thankfully, Aelin obliged him and rubbed his length before freeing him and taking him fully into her hand.

"You touch me," Aelin choked out as Dorian's head fell to the crook of her neck yet he continued the onslaught in her clit, "I touch you," she then finished as she began pumping him tauntingly.

Indeed, his cock was as big as she imagined, and for that, she was grateful.

He was drawing her closer to the edge and she hoped that when she did climax, she wouldn't burn the forest down with her.

"Aelin..." Dorian groaned, and then again, " _Aelin_..." He was getting closer too but he stopped them both before they could climax.

"What's-?" She began, wondering what was wrong but she was cut off when he rolled them over so she sank on to his length. She looked ethereal like this; cheeks stained rosy, her head haloed by the moon, her lips drawn into an o. 

"You're so beautiful," she said, and he was. His golden skin shone in the moonlight, and his sapphire eyes glowed as if starlight was held captive within them.

The bond shone clear and true between them. How could he not see it?

Slowly, she began to roll her hips against his and soon found a rhythm as he moved within her. He sat up and clutched her to him as a soft glow emanated from their bodies. One hand on her hip, Dorian used the other to push up her bra so her breasts were revealed to the cold and her breath quickened as he set about devouring her whole.

"Come for me, Aelin," he groaned, his hand finding her cheek as he made her watch him. "Say my name."

"Dorian," she moaned as she rode him, then she smirked. "Harder," she commanded.

He obliged her.

She cried out but a wicked grin pulled at her lips as she turned her face to the sky in ecstasy. "No no," Dorian chided as he guided her face down to his, so their eyes would meet again. "I want to watch you."

Biting her lip, Aelin did as he said, similarly wanting to watch him as she had him at her mercy.

And with another roll of her hips, the waves of hormones flooded her whole body and she clutched onto Dorian to keep from shattering completely. This in turn made him climax as well, gorgeous moans and curses bursting from his mouth as he held her close, still moving his hips to slowly bring them down from their euphoria.

 _My mate my mate my mate my mate my mate,_ her mind screamed but all that came out was, "That...was..." breathlessly as her chest heaved. Their water and sweat slicked skin shone faintly in the moonlight as both of them recovered their breath.

"Wow..." Dorian agreed, letting her go so she'd fall onto the grass beside him.

As Aelin stared up at the night sky, she began to smile, then laugh, and Dorian joined in too and they chuckled and giggled until their stomachs hurt.

"Happy Yulemas, Dorian," she said finally.

"Happy Yulemas, Aelin," he replied.


	10. So Baby Pull Me Closer ~ Part 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mwahahahaha that calm before the storm.  
> I swear there are fluffy doraelin fics planned for the future, but as I said before, I like causing people pain.  
> This chapter is not (very) angsty, but does contain NSFW content.  
> What can I say, I enjoy my otps going down on each other.  
> Enjoy~

“Maybe we should decrease infantry in the first wave,” Aelin suggested as she stared up at the roof of her tent. “Make them think our armies are pitiful.”

Dorian emerged from in between her thighs, dragging his thumb over his bottom lip before sucking on it. “They’d be annihilated within minutes, though,” he disagreed as he propped his chin on her bent knee. “Are you planning on sending the rest immediately after?”

When she grew frustrated that he’d stopped his ministrations, he smirked and obliged her once more. With one hand gripping the bed sheets, she let her fingers comb through Dorian’s hair as his mouth pleasured her. “I was thinking that the two of us would be the second wave-” A moan burst forth from her lips as he hit the right spot. When she recovered she had almost lost all train of thought. She swallowed. “And _then_ we bring out the rest of the force.”

“All of it?” Dorian snapped up again.

“All of it,” Aelin confirmed.

It was a few days after Yulemas, as boring and monotonous as the various days before. Even then, Yulemas wasn’t as extravagant as once perceived, the camp still caught up in preparing for war and only stopping during the evening to drink more alcohol than normal.

Only few whispered and gossiped on the nocturnal habits of the King and Queen, most boiling it down to boredom and proximity that drew the two together like this. But Aelin knew it to be much more than that. The question was; did Dorian? 

Since that first night, Aelin kept herself reeled in for Dorian’s sake. Her fae instincts made every harmless touch or stare one thousand times worse, and she yearned to rip his clothes off and have him right then and there when she saw him outside the confines of their tents.

It was maddening; yet she vowed to do it all over, properly with a wedding and countless balls to show how much she loved him, once this was all history.

She had consulted Rowan on her newfound frenzy, and he mentioned it was to do with ensuring that the female was pregnant. Though, there was no chance of that happening since she and Dorian had been guzzling contraceptive tonics like nobody’s business. And Aelin had a suspicion that Yrene was getting particularly tired of constantly making tonics, but she knew it was for the best. Who would want a baby in the middle of a warzone?

“We should bring it up during the council later,” Dorian offered, they had all been debating strategies for weeks but with so many different kingdoms at the camp, there were so many differing opinions. Technically, since they were still based in Adarlan, Dorian still had authority. But Oakwald Forest was a place of its own, a haven from diplomacy and politics, which was what he excelled at. 

For Aelin, however, this was her domain as direct descendant of King Brannon. Although, it seemed few of the allied kingdoms actually respected this.

Dorian returned his efforts to the feast before him, sucking and nipping and licking all the places she liked it best. All the while, she tugged at his hair and moaned is name. And when she climaxed, she sighed contentedly as the pleasure warmed and soothed her body.

Kissing her a little longer, Dorian bought her down from her high then rested his chin upon her knee again, looking down at her with a slight smug smile on his face. If they both didn’t have duties that day, she would’ve made sure that mouth of his would beg for her mercy.

She sighed again. “I don’t want to leave this bed,” she proclaimed and smiled at her mate from where she was nestled between the pillows.

“You can’t get enough of my excellent talents within the bedroom, can you?” he offered slyly, ascending to bury his face within the crook of her neck, lips latching onto the skin there.

It was this, and that she feared the world looming outside. His and her tents had become a haven for them both, an escape from war and death where they weren’t a king and a queen. They were just a boy and a girl; not even fully out of their teens, with all the time in the world.

She played with his hair once more as he kissed his way up her neck and jawline. “Bedroom, mouldy tent, bathtub, river bank,” she thought aloud. “Wherever we are, I’d still call your ‘talents’ rather sub par.” As a grin split her lips, his head snapped up and he scowled at her.

“Sub par?” he said, his voice dangerously calm. She felt the ripple of magic beneath his skin and her own body thrummed in reply and anticipation. While one hand propped him up above her, his other drifted along her figure, coming to rest on her hip where his grip teasingly tightened. He leaned in, his lips tickling the shell of her ear as he murmured, “I’ll show you sub par.”

She half yelped, half laughed as Dorian rolled them over. And a few minutes later, she had a hand clamped over her mouth as not to alert the entire camp as to what he was doing to her.

~

Aelin fought to keep her eyes open as yet another debate was going on between a general of Melissande and a prince of Eyllwe. It was usually these two, but Aelin wasn’t afraid to admit to getting into scuffles before over war councils.

This time was particularly boring and tedious. As various other courtiers and councillors and rulers watched in unamused silence, Aelin took to studying the map spread onto the vast table before her.

Pieces of carved wood like soldiers and battalions stood in formations, stark against the enchanted forest of Oakwald. But even more outright were the shadowy mountains of Morath, its dark and sinister atmosphere reflected even in a piece of cartography.

Opposite her, she spied Dorian with Chaol to his left at the other end of the table. Even with such informal wear as fighting leathers and furs, he was still so achingly handsome it was hard to look away.

But maybe that was the throbbing bond between them talking.

Even with his eyes averted, she could tell he was still watching her, as evidenced by the way his fingers slipped his jacket aside, exposing more of his collarbone. She fought the urge to lick her lips.

Mentally shaking herself, she scowled at the - still - arguing pair beside her. She was in a war council for gods’ sake! She shouldn’t be thinking inappropriate thoughts about a fellow monarch; or his beautiful skin, or the intoxicating scent of him, or his very capable fingers, or his glorious manhood that leaves her writhing and moaning with every-

“Are you well, your Majesty? Your face is awfully red.”

Aelin snapped out of her heated thoughts to find the entire table staring at her. The general from Melissande had stopped his argument with the prince and was now was waiting for her answer. She turned an even deeper shade of red.

From the corner of her vision, she could see Dorian’s smug smile as she stuttered, “I-err-yes, general.” Then she collected herself and stood. “But I am extremely tired over your spat with his Highness,” she dared as she came round the table to stand between the two.

“I presume you have something more useful to contribute, your Majesty?” the prince drawled back.

Proudly, she said, “Actually, I do,” and swept her eyes over to her mate then began to explain her plan, moving the pieces over the map accordingly.

“Yourself and the King of Adarlan wish to be the second wave?” the general asked once she had finished. “Seems quite theatrical rather than offensive.”

“Maybe they plan to fuck on the battlefield too!” someone remarked and Aelin clenched her jaw, resisting the urge to punch their teeth in.

A few others snorted but Dorian cut in before she committed murder. “I’m not ashamed of my relationship with her Majesty,” he began, leaning back in his chair and regarding each and every man and woman at the table with his icy stare. “But in this instance, it is completely irrelevant.” He stood. “What many of you underestimate is the unfathomable power we both possess.”

At that moment, he strode over to her and took her by the hand. The second their skin made contact, a flower of starlight bloomed between them. Little slivers began to weave through the air, casting strange shadows and lighting up the darkness.

Aelin held tighter to him, their magic a drain on her physical form, but there was also the magnetism their bond had in this state. She yearned to be closer to him, but if they were not in the middle of a council meeting, she would’ve made love to him, sweet and slow.

The bond throbbed and a pulse rippled through the air, expanding outwards throughout the camp to the surrounding lands.

Once their combined magic dissipated, she still held onto him and looked at the council. Some were in awe of the two of them, others...not so much.

“ _That’s_ your power?” the general gaped. “A _light show_?” His expression was that of exasperation which then turned into something of malice, opening his mouth to spit more venom.

But the guard that suddenly ran into the tent, breathing heavily with a panicked expression on his face, cut him off.

The guard bowed to the monarchy and saluted the military then stuttered, “Th-the Valg...the _prisoners_...th-they’re all dead...!”

At this, Aelin turned to the general, a smirk on her lips, and his shocked expression was the last thing she saw before she fainted.

~

Vision still foggy, she opened her eyes to see Dorian sat beside her, his own sapphire eyes wet. She shifted, only for a spike of pain to shoot up her spine. Lying on a bed in the infirmary, she saw her mate gesture for Yrene and soon the healer appeared at her side.

She said something, but to Aelin it was all a blur. Thankfully, the more Yrene spoke, the clearer her voice became. “Are you in any pain, your Majesty?” Aelin managed to nod her head. Yrene turned to Dorian, and said, “You should’ve been more careful. Any longer and she could’ve died.”

This sent more tears rolling down his cheeks, and she ached to wipe them away, to tell him that it was okay, that _she_ was okay. He muttered, “I’m so sorry,” over and over again like a prayer to the gods.

She’d had a burnout. One much worse than before. She’d almost died.

The shock hit her like a blow to the chest and she curled in on herself despite the pain of moving her limbs.

After Yrene gave them both a stern talking to, she left to tend to other patients and Aelin could only stare at her mate as he wiped away his tears and gave her a grim smile. She smiled back and opened her mouth to speak. “This seems vaguely familiar,” she mused, thinking back to the aftermath of her fight with Duke Perrington’s champion - back before any of this ever happened.

He chuckled before brushing a lock of hair from her face. “It seems I have yet again failed to protect you,” he said sadly.

“It’s not your job to protect me, Dorian,” she replied, shaking her head slightly. “You need to stop beating yourself up over it.”

“But it hurts me, Aelin,” he cut in quickly. “It hurts me that your the one suffering and it’s all my fault.”

She regarded him for a moment, her turquoise eyes taking in his form as he knelt beside her cot. When she was sure that moving wouldn’t send her spiralling into another fit of pain, Aelin scooted back a bit in her cot, threw back the fur covers, and gestured for him to join her. “I should’ve told you,” she murmured when he settled in beside her, wrapping his arms around her. “I should’ve told you that my body can’t handle it.”

“You don’t have to do it again if you don’t want to,” he said and kissed her forehead.

“But the plan-?”

“Screw the plan,” his voice was harder now, but it grew softer as he continued. “Your people need you,” he swallowed, “ _I_ need you.”

She looked up then, into his deep blue eyes, and saw only honesty. Taking his face in her hands, she pressed her lips to his. This kiss was soft and slow, mixing with the salt of their tears, and she wondered if she could love him any more within that moment.


	11. And Do You Feel Like a Young God ~ Part 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey~ I’m sad to say that this may very well be the third to last chapter in this series. It’s been a ton of fun writing this all and considering the events of EoS, I hope many of you can take solace in this series as I have.  
> This chapter is angsty as well as NSFW, so you have been warned~

She wore a bralette and underthings of black lace.

Sitting delicately on his four poster bed in his room in Rifthold, Aelin ran a hand through her hair, trailing it from her neck over her breast, down her stomach, and around her ass. Her lashes fluttered before she said, “I missed you.”

Dorian, leaning against the door frame, forced himself to take slow even breaths lest he launch himself at her and ruin her new lingerie. But every part of him thrummed in anticipation and he could feel himself tighten within the restricting trousers he was wearing.

Aelin sat up on her knees, beckoning with her finger for him to come closer…but a pair of hands had already curled around her waist. Startled, Dorian looked to the figure behind his queen and saw his own sapphire eyes staring back at him.

_No._

The Valg smirked at him, the collar around his neck sucking up all light, as he pulled Aelin’s hair off her shoulder to press his lips to her neck. And Aelin was none the wiser, she still moaned his name when he tugged her bralette aside to palm her breast.

He couldn’t move, he couldn’t scream, as he was forced to watch the demon take advantage of her.

Breathing heavily, the girl threw her head back in bliss. When she straightened once more, her skin and hair had grown darker, and her turquoise eyes were now hazel.

~

Aelin held tightly to her mate, as he cried into her shoulder, feeling his pain ripping her heart into shreds.

He kept whimpering Sorscha’s name, like an apology or prayer, as she hushed him into calmness like so many times before. Her fingers threaded into his hair, she waited until he stopped shaking to pull away and tip his chin to meet her gaze.

He looked so haunted, and Aelin had no idea what he dreamt but she knew this one would stay with him for days. “Do you want to go back to sleep?” she whispered.

“No,” he rasped.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked instead.

He adjusted her position in his lap, his hands resting on her hips, and pressed his forehead to hers, a worried crease forming on his brow. “The demon wanted to steal you away from me.” He swallowed. “It wanted Sorscha too.”

Pressing a chaste kiss to his lips, Aelin brushed her thumb across his cheek as she replied, “I’m okay, I’m safe. And Sorscha-” she took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “Sorscha is in a better place now, nothing can hurt her there.”

This seemed to ease him a little, but there was still a slouch to his shoulders.

“I don’t know if I can do this with you, Aelin,” he whispered suddenly.

She froze.

“I don’t think I’m over Sorscha just yet.”

In the dark of their tent, Aelin hated the tears that blurred her vision. She didn’t know what to do; move away or stay as she was? But Dorian still held onto her, so Aelin let her hands fall to her sides.

“And we’re in the middle of a war-” he stopped and let his head fall to the crook of her neck. “What are we doing, Aelin?” he sighed.

She didn’t touch him, no matter how much her fingers ached to, and merely stared at the darkness around her. “I didn’t know her very well,” she began, “or at all, really - but I don’t think Sorscha would want you to stay miserable because of her.” His lips began to move over her skin. “And war? I’d like to believe we’re much bigger than war,” she whispered as his mouth travelled lower. “But I understand if you want to leave me, Dorian,” he paused over her breasts and she closed her eyes. She found that the words rang true no matter how much pain they caused her to say. “How you feel and whether you feel comfortable is more important to me.

“What do you want, Dorian Havilliard?” she breathed.

He took a while to answer, his breath tickling her breasts. Then he rolled them over so she was lying beneath him on the bed. His lips hovered above hers, and his eyes flickered between hers and her mouth.

“You,” he rasped against her lips. “I want you.”

And he made love to her again and again until they both fell asleep


	12. You Taught Me the Courage of Stars Before You Left ~ Part 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOOOOOOO so I finished EoS yesterday and let me tell you: I am so glad I continued with these epiphanies because I would be lost without them jfc. A little part of me still hopes for doraelin as endgame but that probably won’t happen considering the events of EoS but this is your lucky day because only doraelin fics are allowed on my blog lmao.
> 
> Though, saying that, I decided to include some things from EoS in here just to stay a bit truer to the canon and because it’s totally badass.
> 
> This is the penultimate chapter and the next one will be the last, yet fear not! I will probably be writing doraelin fics til I die so there’s that.  
> Enjoy~

They didn’t have time to formulate a plan of attack, the camp was ambushed.

Queen Aelin Galathynius, a wild and flaming crown atop her head, ran frantically as she tore up, burnt, maimed, and skewered any enemy in her path.

She needed to get to Dorian, she needed to find her mate!

She knew she needed to fight, she knew her people needed her, but the bond tugged insistently at her middle. It was hard to shake away and she fought the tears threatening to fall as she ran, slicing up any foe as she passed.

Erawan was nowhere in sight, either far from battle or watching like one would spectate a duel. One wide arc of her arm had the Valg around her explode in a wave of flame, but she didn’t stop.

She felt Rowan before she saw him, his overmastering presence like a beacon for her and the Valg. He was a whirl of silver and steel as he dispatched several demons with his swords, a few more with his magic. More were flocking around him, though, and they were too quick for him so see the dagger heading for his back.

A painful roar was ripped from his lips.

The demon was incinerated. But not before it made a shallow wound in the Fae warrior's skin. The bond tugged viciously now, so much so that it made her sick, but she ran forward to her friend as he continued to fight despite the blood quickly staining his clothes.

They worked back to back, swiping and stabbing in formation and releasing their magic here and there to hold off the wave around them. “Are you healing?” Aelin called over to her friend as she decapitated one of the ilken.

“Yes,” Rowan confirmed, “but slowly. My magic is almost all gone.” A wall of wind knocked back a few more demons.

Aelin dug deep into herself, but they were too occupied to use that ounce of water magic to heal his wound, they just kept coming and coming. And she felt herself slowly reaching the end of her well also.

Then she was stabbed.

Though the front.

But before her was no demon close enough to wound her and there was no blood to account for the supposed injury.

_No._

“Go find him,” Rowan instructed, sensing the distress on her face, “I’m fine here.”

At the worried look she gave him for leaving him alone, he gave her a pointed stare and shoved her away.

Nodding in respect, the queen gave him one last glance and ran off to her mate. More tears gathered in her eyes as she felt the bond throb in pain.

She ran as fast as she possibly could letting his agony guide her.

And she saw him.

He was sprawled out on the ground, one hand pressed the wound on his abdomen, the other keeping him upright as he stared at the Valg and horrendous beasts around him. Sweat glistened on his brow amongst the dirt and blood as his magic fought to keep the enemy frozen in place.

Thankfully, Aelin swept in to dispatch them all, throwing up a ring of flame to shield them from the all out war raging around. Then she collapsed to her knees beside him and began focusing her water magic on the gaping wound ripping his skin.

“Oh, you idiot,” she said to him, not willing herself to look at her mate as his sapphire eyes traced her face.

Memorising it.

“I hate you, you hear me?” She shook her head, concentrating to her magic.

He grinned, a genuine smile despite the pain he must have been in. “Is this your strange way of confessing your love for me?”

If he wasn’t dying, she might’ve punched him.

So she stopped her hurried hands and looked up at him, letting the tears that had blurred her vision fall down her cheeks. They smeared the blood and dirt that coated her face but she didn’t care, not anymore. “I love you so much,” her voice barely came out a whisper. He looked at her a long while, trying to discern truth from lie, but he must have found complete honesty in her eyes as a small smile appeared on his lips. His own eyes grew damp.

“I’m so glad I got you out of Endovier,” he said, that smile still lighting up the darkness, “I’m happy that I was able to share this with you, however fleeting it was.

“Please don’t talk like that,” she half whispered, half sobbed. “It doesn’t end here,” she pleaded. “There’s still a way.”

His eyes widened, catching on to what she had planned. “No, Aelin, we can’t. It’ll _destroy_ you!”

“I don’t care!” she sobbed. “It could all end here with you dying in my fucking arms, or we could slaughter every single Valg and demonic creation on this battlefield, Dorian! You choose!”

They both stared defiantly at one another, but the shield of flame was swept away faster than she could blink and was replaced by the menacing, shadowy figure of the Dark King Erawan.

He stood there, clapping at the two descendants of Mala as they huddled upon the bloody, muddy ground of the battlefield. Golden eyes laughed at them as he strode toward them, a crowd of beasts and Valg circling around them, closing in.

“The only two who could seal me away forever,” Erawan mused, his pale face cocking to one side as he regarded the pair, eyeing the shredded and bleeding wound on Dorian’s middle. “Pity that,” he pouted with mock sympathy. “I wish I could’ve shredded you both up before taking you as my own...but it seems my minions have already beaten me to it,” he sighed and a snarl ripped from Aelin’s throat.

Erawan gestured at his sentries and said, “Take them,” before Aelin and Dorian were hauled to their feet and ripped apart by the Valg. All the while, Aelin thrashed, needing to get to her mate, Dorian fought too, but his wound prevented it.

“I won’t go back,” Dorian whispered under his breath, again and again. As the iron cuffs neared both their wrists.

But Aelin wasn’t done.

Dragging up that last trickle of flame inside her, she blew up the world around her, the ilken securing her instantly went up in flames and she ran for her mate.

As soon as their scarred and bloody hands met, the world was ripped in two.

~

Starlight.

There was only starlight.

It lit up the world as the descendants of Mala light-bringer clasped hands against the wind that tore from them. It healed their wounds, cleansed their skin, shredded the world anew.

It burned the darkness staining the earth, washed the evil away, the Dark King was weakened against it.

The gods quivered in their wake, Aelin and Dorian, carving a new path of all that is good and pure, their eyes glowing with moonfire.

A newborn star.

~

Aelin felt it, her magic was hitting rock bottom, nothing but dust in that well, a burnout that could kill her.

But a sliver flowed through her, so subtle, almost unnoticeable, as the world returned and the light subsided. The magic filled her, breathing life into her dying husk.

She blinked, seeing her mate before her, a sad smile upon his lips.

 _No_ , she thought, then breathed, “ _No_.”

Tears fell as he leaned in to press his mouth to hers, their kiss tasting of salt. She held onto him for as long as she could, her hands memorising the plains of his face.

“Please don’t leave me,” she pleaded against his lips, knowing it was futile.

And so they collapsed to the bare ground, no more sounds of swords clashing and blood being spilled. Erawan knelt a few feet away, too weak to do anything but watch and listen as Aelin’s cry pierced the silent sky.


	13. I Hear You Whisper; Stay With Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are! The end of the road! I just want to say that it has been a joy writing for you guys and more myself as well. This fic has been a wild ride from start to finish lmao. I love seeing your feedback and it’s also saddening to know that I am one of very few still on this boat :/
> 
> Anyway, here is the conclusion to the 1am epiphanies, given that name from the time a sprang bolt upright in the realisation that doraelin still may have a chance...
> 
> Whoops.
> 
> But here we go, I am proud to give you this last piece of my soul.

He woke to the chirping of birds, a light breeze on his skin, and a tug at his stomach. Opening his eyes, he took in his surroundings; the white sheets, the light green decor of the room, the vase of violets that had been placed on the bedside table.

Faintly, he could smell pine and snow; the scent of Terrasen. He sat up and pushed back the bed covers, catching the soft sleepwear he had been put in. 

He caught sight of a girl asleep in a chair opposite him near the door, she had light brown skin and dark hair that fell in waves over her shoulders; Lady Lysandra of Caraverre. She awoke when she felt his eyes on her too long and she was taken aback by his presence.

“Dorian,” she whispered, then stood, smoothing down her simple jade gown. “You’re awake.”

He nodded, trying to speak, but found his voice to be raspy, his tongue like cotton. Picking up on this, Lysandra hurried to a nearby table with a jug and glasses sat atop it. Filling a glass, the Lady passed it to him and sat down beside him, watching him as if he’d keel over any moment.

He took a drink. A large drink. “Where is everyone? What happened?” he asked her, setting down the glass on the bedside table.

“Your court and my court are in this castles’ war room- Oh, don’t worry Erawan is gone now, we’re at peace.” She smiled serenely and continued. “And- Um, well as to what happened _to you_ , Majesty-”

He gave her a look that suggested she spit it out.

“Well...you _died.”_

~

A few moments later, he exited the bathroom into the plush closet where some of his clothes resided, no doubt the rest were still in Rifthold. From his bedroom, Lysandra called, “You know, Aelin wouldn’t stop worrying after you the entire way back to Terrasen.”

This both was and wasn’t a surprise to Dorian as he pulled on a shirt and trousers, something simple. Aelin had a knack for worrying, but the fact that she worried for _him_ more than her own kingdom...

“You were out for about a week and a half,” Lysandra continued. “Up until a couple of nights ago, it was Aelin sleeping in that chair, but I threatened her if she didn’t take a break.”

This brought a smile to his face as he laced his boots and pulled on a jacket, coming back into his bedroom shortly after. “Maybe she just can’t resist my unfathomable beauty,” he stated as he offered an arm to her.

She took it, leading them from the bedroom door to the foyer beyond. “Oh, you’re in for a real treat,” she sang and she patted his arm.

~

When they entered the war room, Dorian couldn’t help but stare. It was elegant but practical, much less absurd than the one that had resided in his father’s glass castle.

Occupying the centre of the room was a magnificent table decorated with a map of Erilea. It was surrounded by a great many chairs several of which sat the courts of Terrasen and Adarlan. While many had been discussing political matters, all eyes fell to Dorian and Lysandra stood at the door.

The room went silent.

“Welcoming back, Majesty,” Rowan said, his silver hair catching the light as he dipped his head in respect. Others nodded, some even bowed to the king as he strode further into the room.

Then the court began excusing themselves, most bidding him good health as they passed. The cadre clasped hands with him, and Rowan bowed deeply at the waist. Then his own court passed, Chaol and Nesryn immediately enveloping him into a hug. “I missed you both so much,” he whispered to them and let them go, promising to dine with them later.

Finally, Dorian was alone with Aelin. She stood from her place at the head of the table and strode around it to stand next to it. Leaning against the table, Dorian said, “Your Lady tells me that I died.”

To save her.

It all came flooding back. He’d used his power and siphoned it into her body, he had known that she was at the end, that to share their magic would burn her out so much it would kill her. He would rather risk his own life than let her die.

“You did,” she said, nodding stiffly. “And thank you, with your lifeforce we were able to forge the Lock, and send Erawan away,” she said grimly and he nodded. “But Mala came to save you.”

His head snapped up. “Why?” he managed to get out.

“Pity,” Aelin replied simply. “She and Elena knew what pain that loss of a mate caused...” tears filled her eyes as she looked to him. “They brought you back - bought you back to me.”

Tentatively, he tried, “I’m your...mate.” Not meeting her gaze, he instead concentrated on the woody pattern on the table before him, cursing himself and his mortal body for not realising sooner.

“I understand if you don’t want it,” Aelin said sadly, avoiding his gaze also. “I’m not going to force you if you don’t - if you don’t want me...love me.” 

He stood slowly, and walked towards Aelin - towards his mate - and took her face in his hands. She let him wipe the tears from her cheeks as his own eyes grew blurry. Pressing his forehead against hers, he said, “Thank you,” before kissing her nose. Then he repeated himself, pressing his lips to her cheek. Again, to the other cheek. Again, to the corners of her mouth.

“I love you,” she said to him before he kissed her lips.

It was a sweet kiss, yet filled with the agony of being apart so long. Then their need demanded more and the kiss deepened; tongues caressing, teeth nipping.

He pushed her up against the table, hips grinding together. Aelin felt the hardness pressed up against her and rubbed herself against it. Groaning, Dorian lifted her up on the table and tugged at the hem of her shirt, pulling it off her to reveal a plain, white bra.

She unhooked it as he tugged his own shirt off, the two not wasting any breath before devouring each other again. “Maybe,” she panted, “Maybe we should go back to the-”

“Later,” he replied, kissing down her neck to her chest. “I want to make love to you all across Erilea.” As soon as his lips found her nipple, she fell back on her hands, nails digging into the map’s depiction of Oakwald Forest.

He revelled in the breathy moans she released and - at the sound of footsteps down the hall - used his magic to lock all the doors to the war room. Finished with one breast, he licked his tongue over the other, sucking the nipple as he watched her blush and writhe at his touch.

Pressing one last kiss to her skin, he knelt down to remove the boots from her feet, then his own, and began to unbuckle the belt on her waist. His hands were shaking, he needed this, he needed her, in every conceivable way. And Dorian loved her, enough to rattle the stars.

As soon as her trousers were off, his lips were on hers again as his hand disappeared between her thighs. His fingers explored her deliciously wet folds and pressed circles into her clit, it drove him crazy how aroused she was for him already.

Aelin’s hand gripped his shoulder as he played with her, her demanding kiss both a plea to stop and for more. When she couldn’t take any more, her head fell to the crook of his neck but she rocked into his fingers as they built her up and up.

She came hard and fast, moaning his name as she almost pierced his skin with her nails. And it was a miracle she hadn’t scorched the table with her magic.

Taking a few moments to cool down, she hung onto Dorian and pressed kisses up his neck to his jawline where she finally kissed him on the lips. She nibbled on his lower lip, urging him to carry on, eyes of turquoise and sapphire meeting in a heated gaze. When she pulled away, she watched him as her hands travelled down his torso to his belt.

She twitched when he took his hands away from her sex, taking each finger into his mouth and sucking on the taste. He could see the feral madness in her eyes, the instinct to push him away only to ravish him like one would worship a god.

Unbuckling his belt, her hand moved to reach inside- but he pushed her back onto the table. And soon, he climbed over her, his trousers forgotten on the floor. His eyes flicked up to hers momentarily to see if she was ready and she bit her lip in response.

He eased into her slowly, eyes locked, as their breath mingled. And when he was fully inside, his head fell to the crook of her neck as he savoured the feel on them joined like this, also letting her adjust to his size as she ran her fingers through his hair.

Then he began to move, slowly at first until she moaned, “Harder,” and he obeyed her command. Every stoke, every thrust, brought him closer and closer to an edge, it felt like starlight in his veins as he kissed her again, moaning into her mouth.

As one hand propped him up beside her head atop the country of Melissande, his other moved between them and he brushed his thumb over her clit, making her hips jerk in response. As his thrusts grew faster and more erratic, he continued to rub her clit, bringing her to the edge with him.

“Dorian,” she gasped against his lips and clutched his shoulders. Not a moment later, orgasm overcame her body and she tightened around him. He followed suit, their lips firmly locked in a kiss so the whole castle didn’t have to know what was going on.

Eternity spread out before them, as vast and infinite as the universe, but that did not frighten him one bit. As long as they were together, the future did seem as terrifying.

Dorian gave his queen one last lingering kiss before he pulled out and cradled her body against his. She nestled into his warmth, pressing her lips to his chest as a reminder that she loved him.

And he would never let her go again.

~The End~


End file.
